


We're Clearly Soldiers in Petticoats

by Cliotheproclaimer



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, Minor Violence, Romance, Suffragette AU, vintage lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 04:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliotheproclaimer/pseuds/Cliotheproclaimer
Summary: A Hicsqueak Suffragette AU. Featuring historical accuracy, loving references to feminist activism and of course some vintage lesbians™





	We're Clearly Soldiers in Petticoats

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write this for so long - I hope you enjoy! Also most of the period-isms can be understood in context, but just to save time the NUWSS was the non-militant union for women's suffrage in Britain headed by Millicent Fawcett and the WSPU the militant union headed by Emmeline Pankhurst.

_November 1910_

 

A meeting at Caxton Hall, Flora had said over the telephone. Twelve o’clock sharp; wear sensible shoes and bring sandwiches. But then that was Flora for you, daring and heroic and terribly practical.

Despite her best intentions, however, Pippa Pentangle was kept late in talks with her editor, and by the time he finally let her go she not only had no time to stop for sandwiches, but as she picked up her footsteps on the walk from Fleet Street to Westminster, Pippa was sure she would have missed the best part of the meeting.

 She was lucky. Pippa arrived breathless at Caxton Hall just as Flora and Ada were marshalling the women outside into groups outside. It was a grey, miserable November day. A few of the women were shivering, and many more seemed to have either not received or not heeded Flora’s advice about sensible shoes. Pippa herself was beginning to regret her own choice of outfit. A pale pink skirt suit had seemed just the ticket for quarrelling with newspaper men, but there were omnibuses travelling up and down the road, and a couple of the girls’ skirts were already speckled and spattered with mud.

 Pippa spotted a friend and fell in line, squeezing herself past two chatting women on the outer edge.

‘Hello darling.’ Dimity Drill turned and smiled at her sunnily.

‘Hello lovely. Thought I’d see you here.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it.’ Pippa assured her. ‘It was all they were talking about at _The Mirror_ , too. A general election for goodness sake – that odious little toad of a Prime Minister, I could strangle him.’

‘Too bloody right. It seems like there’s no chance at all of women’s suffrage being debated before it, and it won’t be a priority after. Mrs. Pankhurst was hopping mad. So was Christabel – waving her arms so hard I thought she’d take off.’ Pippa smiled fondly at the image.

‘So, the Commons I presume?’ Dimity nodded.

‘Strictly peaceful protest. There’s a group already gone to try and speak with the Prime Minister, we’re just there for moral support.’ Pippa gave a mock pout.

‘So, no window breaking then?’ Dimity shook her head, grinning and bumping shoulders with Pippa.

‘Categorically no window-breaking, controlled arson or heckling the bobbies. We’re law-abiding citizens today, Pip. There’s some of the NUWSS crowd in the delegation, and they eyed me as nervously as if I’d threatened to smash all the stained glass in Westminster.’

Pippa snorted, well able to imagine. Just then, Flora gave a shout, and they began moving. They hadn’t a banner among them, but they had already attracted the attention of passers-by, who embarked on shouting the usual filth at them.

 ‘Hooligans!’

‘A disgrace to your sex!’

‘Lesbians!’

 ‘Well they’re right about one thing.’ Dimity murmured, and Pippa laughed, linking arms with her friend.

‘Votes for women!’ She bellowed at one of the hecklers, before continuing in normal tones. ‘You know, you’d think they’d be a little more creative with their insults. But then that’s the problem with the anti-suffragists – no imagination.’

‘If you were mine I’d put you across my knee.’

Dimity whipped around.

‘If I were yours, I’d break your kneecaps.’ She called back. ‘Give us the vote and we’ll go home!’

‘Nice.’ Pippa murmured.

‘I do my best.’

One of the girls walking in front turned around, friendly and open faced. Her hair was still in pigtails, and she couldn’t be much older than fourteen.

‘Do you think we have time for an anthem?’ She asked, hopefully. Pippa considered it.

‘Probably not.’ She opined. ‘Look, we’re almost there.’ It was true. The Houses of Parliament loomed large in front of them, and their pace slowed as the women in front began to stop and chat amongst themselves

‘Are there going to be speeches?’ Pippa asked. Dimity shrugged.

‘Mrs. Pankhurst will probably give one when she comes out’ She allowed. ‘And Sophia Duleep Singh is there too. Have you got your notebook?’

‘Always.’ Pippa rummaged in her handbag. ‘Although I’m sure I’ve never known so hard an editor as Mrs. Pethwick-Lawrence. The last article I sent to _Votes for Women_ was sent back covered in red pen.’

 

Their party came to a halt in Parliament Square, and the hairs on the back of Pippa’s neck immediately begin to prickle. She stood on her tiptoe and craned her neck. There were the usual host of policemen escorting them, who are never too much trouble. But around the corner she could see more policemen – and more again, approaching stealthily via the green.

Even some of the gentlemen loitering outside the government buildings had an air of casual nonchalance that made Pippa’s journalistic fingers itch.

‘Something’s not right.’ She muttered to Dimity. ‘There shouldn’t be so many policemen here – and plain-clothed, too. They’re up to something.’ 

 There was a crowd gathering around, and how many of them were local and how many plain clothed officers Pippa couldn’t tell, but their agitation was palpable, scowling and sneering and yelling abuse at their gathering. Meanwhile, the women around Pippa were growing more and more restless. There were a few cries of ‘Votes for women!’, and a few began to jostle a little as they peered to see whether the delegation had finally left.

 Out of the corner of her eye, Pippa saw a group of girls break away from the rest of them and run up to the Houses of Parliament, trying to push their way through.

‘No don’t!’ She cried, stupidly, in vain.

 

It was all the policemen were waiting for. They descended on their group in droves, sent them scattering, screaming. Some of the girls were running, only to be grabbed by the policemen and slammed onto the ground, or thrown in to the waiting, baying crowd. Pippa looked around wildly, but Dimity was nowhere to be seen, lost among the people.

All of a sudden Pippa felt a hand at her hair, another roughly grabbing at her breast.

‘All your talk, but this is what you really want, isn’t it?’ Came a sneering voice in her ear.

Acting on pure instinct and unbridled fury, Pippa curled her hand into a fist, swung around and decked her assailant with all the strength in her body. As he lay groaning on the ground she stamped on his fingers.

Dimly, Pippa made out his uniform.

Damn.

Realising that staying would mean almost certain arrest, Pippa began to push her way through the crowd, struggling as Officer after Officer made a grab for her, fisted at her clothes.

Just then, Pippa caught sight of the girl who had spoken to her before. She was attempting to run towards the Houses of Parliament, when a police officer yanked her back by her pigtails, and she fell hard onto the ground. The policeman was holding her down, his truncheon raised, and even from her distance Pippa could see the girl sobbing and covering her face with her hands.

Something overcame Pippa.

‘Let her go!’ Seething with anger, she pushed and elbowed through the crowd and ran full pelt. Using all her weight to force the policeman off, she managed to knee him in the groin, hard. He staggered with a startled grunt, and as he recovered his senses Pippa grabbed the girl’s hand.

‘Run!’

She pulled the girl to her feet, and the two of them sprinted away across the road and down a side street, until the din of the policemen and protestors faded a little, and Pippa was sure they weren’t being followed.

Pippa stopped, and looked the girl up and down. She was scratched and bruised and crying and she had grazes on her knees that were bleeding, badly. Her hair had half come out of its plaits, and her pinafore had been badly torn.

Pippa swallowed her anger.

‘Here.’ She said gently, and reached into her bag for her handkerchief. The girl sniffed and took it, mumbling her thanks and wiping her eyes. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Mildred Hubble.’ The girl blew her nose. ‘What’s yours?’

‘Pippa Pentangle. Are you alright, Mildred? Are you hurt anywhere else?’ Mildred shook her head.

‘I don’t think so – but what are they doing? It was peaceful, it was always going to be peaceful.’ Pippa felt the corners of her mouth grow tight as she peered into the distance, squinting at where there were women still screaming and struggling.

‘They want it to look like a riot.’ Her voice was icy. ‘They want it to look as though we started the fight, and then the crowd finished it. That’s why so many of them aren’t in uniform.’

‘That’s awful.’ Mildred breathed, coming to stand beside Pippa. Pippa sighed.

‘Yes, it is.’ She turned to Mildred. ‘Will you be alright to get home? I wouldn’t re-enter the fray. Take a nice hot bath and consider your duty to the cause done for the day.’

Mildred bit her lip.

‘Yes – I mean I don’t know how I can walk back through London looking like this, and my Aunt will probably murder me as soon as I go through the front door, but I’m sure I can walk back by myself.’

Pippa considered the girl. She certainly did look something of a fright, and Pippa could tell she was still struggling to hold back tears.

‘Where do you live?’

‘On Gordon Square.’ Pippa smiled genuinely at Mildred.

‘Well, we’re neighbours then. My flat is just off Tavistock Place. And I think the neighbourly thing to do would be to pay a visit to a wonderful ice cream parlour on Pall Mall, and then catch the omnibus back together. I can explain to your aunt that none of this was your fault.’

‘You can try.’ Mildred looked doubtful, and then shy. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I don’t want to take up any more of your time. And I don’t think they’d let me in looking like this.’ Mildred gestured at her torn pinafore. Pippa regarded her carefully, and then took off her own coat, draping it over Mildred.

‘Put this on – there.’ She said appreciatively. ‘That hides the worst of it. A stylish coat can cover all manner of sins. Now come on. I can hardly go to an ice cream parlour by myself without a coat on, now can I?’

 

* * *

 

Pippa ordered two ice cream sundaes with nuts and whipped cream, and Mildred’s face when she saw them was almost comical; her eyes seemed to bulge out of her head.

‘Don’t tell me you’ve never seen one of these before?’ Pippa asked, teasingly. Mildred shook her head.

‘Mum and I used to get cones sometimes – but nothing like this.’ Pippa dug in with her spoon and looked at Mildred carefully.

‘How old are you, Mildred?’

‘Fifteen.’ Mildred took a small taste of her ice cream and closed her eyes, evidently in heaven.

‘Skipping school?’ She tried to say it lightly, but Mildred still looked a little suspiciously at her.

‘It’s mostly art and music today anyway.’ She said, a little defensively. ‘And anyway, it’s more important that I have a right to vote than it is to know the principal exports of Germany.’

Pippa hid a smile behind her spoon.

‘So how long have you been a suffragette?’

‘Only since last summer.’ Mildred smiled at the memory.  ‘Maud and Enid and I joined together. I’ve handed out newspapers and gone on a few marches…’

All of a sudden, her eyes widened. ‘Pippa Pentangle! You write articles for _Votes for Women_.’ Pippa inclined her head. ‘Oh, they’re so good. Yours always make me laugh, even when they’re about serious things.’

Pippa grinned conspiratorially.

‘Yes, well, I’ve found that the most effective way of riling a man up is to laugh at him. It is the one thing he absolutely cannot bear; that a woman might find him ridiculous.’

‘Men are ridiculous.’ Mildred said confidently, and Pippa let out a bright bell-like peal of laughter.

‘So they are. I’m glad to see they’re teaching you girls something in school these days.’

‘My aunt thinks so too.’ Mildred confided, taking another large spoon of whipped cream.

‘This is the aunt that I’m making excuses to?’ Mildred nodded. ‘Whatever is she like?’

‘Fierce.’ Mildred told her, and Pippa broke off into laughter again. ‘It’s true! You’ll understand when you see her. And she’s very clever. And she cares, a lot.’

‘She sounds like quite the woman.’ Pippa murmured into the remnants of her sundae.

 

* * *

 

 

They walked up to the house in Gordon Square, Mildred dragging her feet and looking round nervously, as if expecting her aunt to materialise inexplicably behind her.

‘I’m going to be in so much trouble.’ She moaned. Pippa nodded sympathetically.

‘Probably. But you have to expect that, you know, when you’re in the WSPU. Serving a stint in the Royal Holloway is just an extended version of being told off by one’s aunt.’ Mildred gaped.

‘You were in prison? Weren’t you afraid?’

‘Awfully.’ Pippa confided. ‘But the thing about doing the right thing is that it’s its own kind of courage. All the time they’re doing horrible things to you, or saying horrible things about you, you just think ‘I am in the right. And one day history will prove me so.’’

Mildred came to a stop, and looked up nervously at a green front door.

‘This is the one.’

‘Right-ho.’ Pippa said, cheerfully, and making her way up the steps, knocked smartly on the door. Mildred trudged up to stand beside her, looking ruefully at Pippa.

To her surprise the door was opened almost immediately not by a housemaid, but by a dark-haired woman in a smart black dress.

‘Mildred Hubble where on earth…’

‘Aunt Hecate!’ Mildred cut her off and ran into her arms, wrapping her own tightly around the other woman’s waist. Her aunt’s hands came to rest on Mildred’s shoulders, and Pippa dimly registered them trembling.

But her head was spinning at a mile a minute, her heart near thumping out of her chest. _Aunt Hecate_.

Pippa looked up just as Mildred’s aunt did, and Pippa found herself staring into the eyes of Hecate Hardbroom for the first time in almost twenty-five years.

 

Hecate visibly reeled, her face white as chalk. Her mouth came open slightly, but no sound came out.

Mildred removed her arms from her aunt’s waist, oblivious.

‘Aunt Hecate, this is Miss Pentangle. Miss Pentangle helped me get home.’

‘Yes.’ Hecate said faintly. Pippa meanwhile was still struggling with the concept of speech. ‘How do you do, Miss Pentangle. You’re looking very…pink.’

‘Yes.’ Pippa managed to get out, her voice oddly choked to her own ears. ‘It’s the fashion.’

Mildred was looking between them incredulously, evidently bewildered by the turn of conversation.

‘Do you two know each other?’

Hecate snapped her head round, seeming to have suddenly remembered where she was.

‘Mildred Hubble.’ Her eyes flashed dangerously. ‘Where on earth have you been? Your Headmistress rang to inquire why you were absent from class, you left no indication of your whereabouts…’

‘She got caught up in a demonstration.’ Pippa interrupted, and Hecate met her eyes again. Pippa swallowed, utterly incapable of looking away. ‘The police attacked us outside the Houses of Parliament. I just…I wanted to make sure that she got home safely.’

Hecate looked at Pippa, brow creased, and then turned back to Mildred.

‘So not only did you attend the protest in despite my express wishes to the contrary, but you missed an entire day of school to do so?’

Mildred flushed.

‘Yes, Aunt Hecate. And I’m sorry if you were worried, and I will catch up on my schoolwork, but I had to go.’ Her mouth set stubbornly, and she looked up at her aunt. Hecate was still and tense, fingers still trembling, and Pippa knew with a sudden stroke of remembrance that Hecate was either about to explode or…’

Hecate sighed, and her shoulders lowered. She pinched the bridge of her nose as if in pain.

‘Are you hurt?’

‘Not badly.’ Mildred assured her. ‘Just a bit roughed up.’ Hecate winced at Mildred’s language, but tilted her head towards the stairs.

‘Go upstairs and take a bath. And see me after you have your supper. I can decide on how best to punish you then.’ Mildred exhaled in relief.

‘Yes, Aunt Hecate.’ She turned to smile at Pippa, taking off her borrowed coat and proffering it to her. ‘Thanks awfully for the ice cream Miss Pentangle, and for the coat – and for rescuing me.’ Pippa took the coat and attempted to work the corners of her mouth into a smile.

‘My pleasure, Mildred. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.’ Mildred nodded, and half ran into the house and up the stairs, presumably to avoid any possibility of her aunt changing her mind about scolding her.

Pippa turned her gaze back to Hecate and found the other woman’s eyes already fixed on her. Once again Pippa found herself unable to tear her eyes away, everything she had entirely focused on the woman in front of her.

 

They were silent for the longest time. Twice Pippa thought Hecate would speak, only for her words to melt away, trapped behind her bitten lip.

And then Pippa found herself speaking, in a hoarse voice unfamiliar to her own ears.

‘Twenty-five years, Hecate.’ Pippa could see Hecate swallowing again, and hoped beyond all hope she was not imagining the tears in the other woman’s eyes. She could feel her own running hot down her cheeks.

‘Yes.’ Hecate finally whispered, eyes not leaving Pippa for a second.

‘Twenty-five years.’

‘Twenty-five years.’

‘I hated you.’

‘I know.’ But she can’t know, _she can’t_ , not looking so calm and collected and Pippa wanted to make her feel it more than anything.

‘I hated you Hecate. I made myself hate you for all that time.’ Her voice shook so hard it was a wonder Hecate could understand a word she was saying.

‘I know, Pippa.’

Hearing her name in Hecate’s voice was a sudden balm, achingly familiar and forgotten, and Pippa gave a muted, wet gasp, unable to pretend any longer.

‘I missed you.’ She all but whimpered. ‘I missed you so much, Hiccup.’

And then there was quiet, all that silence between them all over again, but Pippa could see Hecate’s lips quivering, saw her struggling with the sounds, with the shapes.

‘I missed you too, Pipsqueak.’

And Pippa didn’t know who moved first but all of a sudden they were clinging to each other as if they could never let go, as if no time had passed between them at all. Pippa rested her chin on Hecate’s shoulder, felt the strong security of her arms around her and cried a little into her neck at how long it had been since she had been embraced by Hecate.

‘You do know each other!’

Hecate’s head turned fast enough to crick her neck, and she released Pippa gently. Pippa used the opportunity to wipe her eyes and try to compose herself a little.

‘Mildred Hubble, if I hear another word out of you…’ Mildred didn’t let her finish her threat, and sprinted the rest of the way upstairs. Hecate watched her run, and Pippa saw her discreetly trying to wipe her eyes before she turned back around to Pippa.

‘Miss Pentangle…’ Pippa tried not to let her face fall at the return to formality, but Hecate must have seen, and her face softened. ‘Pippa. Would you…would you take some tea with me? It is the very least…’

‘Yes.’ Pippa told her firmly, taking Hecate’s hand and holding it firmly, as if she could tie Hecate to her wrist like a balloon and never let her go again. ‘Yes, Hiccup, I would love to.’

 

Pippa could not take her eyes off of Hecate, could not stop looking at the wisps of dark hair curling about her neck, at her hands that shook slightly as she poured tea through a strainer, at the gentle curve of her bent shoulders. It was as if her eyes had been starved of Hecate, as if now she could see her again they were gorging themselves. But as Hecate looked up to hand Pippa her cup she looked away quickly, focusing her eyes on the wallpaper and murmuring her thanks.

The room was a pleasant one – it reminded Pippa of Hecate’s room at Newnham. A tasteful pattern on the wall. Stiff backed armchairs by the fire, with embroidered cushions. A bookshelf that Pippa knew Hecate would have curated and nurtured herself, each book filled with Hecate’s carefully pencilled, thoughtful notes.

‘You’ve been well?’ Pippa was started out of her reverie by Hecate’s question, and she nodded.

‘Yes – I…I’m a journalist now. For the Englishwoman’s Journal.’

‘And for the Daily Mirror?’

Pippa looked in astonishment at Hecate.

‘How do you…How on earth did you guess that was me? I’ve used a male pseudonym since my first day.’ Hecate’s cheeks pinked, and she looked as though she rather wished she had said nothing at all.

‘I’d know your turn of phrase anywhere.’ She eventually muttered. ‘And your introductory paragraphs – you always did like to make an entrance.’ Pippa’s lips quirked up.

‘I had no idea I was so obvious.’

‘Only to me.’ The words seemed to fly through the air and pierce Pippa’s heart in an instant, and she gave a quiet gasp, looking down at her teacup in an effort not to cry again.

A moment passed, and Pippa straightened her back, was able to raise her head to look at Hecate once more.

‘It feels so long ago we used to take tea together in college.’ She said, eventually. Hecate nodded, and Pippa could not make out her expression.

‘I remember.’ She said, voice low and soft. ‘I used to keep Chelsea buns in my bread bin especially.’ Pippa laughed at that, eyes lighting up.

‘I’m sure I have never tasted any as nice as those since leaving Cambridge. Do you remember how many I ate in the days before my final exams?’

‘You wouldn’t come down to dinner all week.’ Hecate recalled, the corners of her mouth turned upwards. ‘I had to coax you out of your room with those blasted confections.’ Pippa laughed.

‘And then the night before Political Economy I burst into tears and told you that I would fail the exam and be a disgrace to the cause of women’s education, and that I might as well throw the works of Jeremy Bentham on the fire and be done with it?’

‘I knew you were going to sail through those exams.’ Hecate smiled fondly. ‘I could hear you quoting Adam Smith in your sleep from my bedroom. But you were inconsolable.’

‘Not quite.’ Pippa reminded her. ‘You ran me a bath and brushed out my hair and tested me on liberal philosophy until I realised that I knew a lot more than I thought.’

Pippa took a sip of tea, watching Hecate steadily over the rim of the cup. ‘I thought, afterwards, that perhaps I had been too much trouble for you. I was so demanding of affection…’

‘No, Pipsqueak.’ Hecate’s eyes were wide and hurt, and she looked at Pippa in distress. ‘You could never have been too much trouble. And as for your affection…’

Pippa watched as Hecate took a deep breath. ‘Your affection…your affection meant a great deal to me.’

Pippa’s breath caught in her throat at the nuance in Hecate’s voice, the meaning hidden in her restraint.

‘Then why?’ She asked almost pleadingly, suddenly desperate to know. ‘Why did you leave me, Hecate? You were my best friend, and then one day you stopped talking to me.’ Hecate avoided Pippa’s gaze, eyes tracing the pattern on the wall.

‘You had other friends, Pippa.’

Pippa set her teacup down so hard the tray rattled, its reverberations seeming to echo around the room.

‘You were the only one I cared about, Hecate.’ She was almost shaking with the sheer force of her emotion. The only one I…’ She trailed off, swallowing her tears and trying to seek Hecate’s eyes, to gain the faintest glimmer of understanding of the inscrutable woman before her.

‘I thought you might have got engaged.’ Pippa whispered, and it was then that Hecate started like a newly born deer, head abruptly coming up to look at Pippa in shock. ‘I thought you might be engaged and couldn’t bring yourself to tell me. All that year, I bought every single copy of the Times and scoured it for news of your engagement. And when I didn’t see it – oh Hecate, I couldn’t understand it.’

Pippa looked imploringly at Hecate, desperate for an answer. Hecate held her breath, and then moved her eyes away from Pippa once more until she was staring out of the window, teacup forgotten on her lap and suddenly seeming so very far away.

‘You remember I received rather awful news after finals.’

‘Your father died.’ Hecate took a sharp breath in, and nodded. ‘I tried so hard to make it the reason that you left, I thought you just needed the space to grieve – but you never replied to any of my letters. I even tried to find you in Hampshire…’

‘The house in Hampshire is gone.’ Hecate suddenly looked exhausted. ‘I sold it almost fifteen years ago now.’ Pippa stopped in her tracks, startled.

‘But you loved that house, Hecate. You grew up there.’ Hecate traced the rim of her teacup with her finger and then set it down on the table, finally meeting Pippa’s eyes.

‘Perhaps I really had better tell you everything from the beginning.’

 

‘When my father died my brother sought to pull me out of Newnham immediately. He had never wanted me to go in the first place, and as soon as he was able to, he wrote ordering me home.’

‘And you went?’ Pippa gaped. Hecate gave an odd, jerky shrug.

‘I had no choice. Hellibore had total control not only of father’s business, but of all our finances. I was utterly dependent on him. Mrs. Cackle was kind enough to send me my examination certificates, and it wasn’t as though I could have graduated anyway. But he put me in charge of his household and expected me to be confined to this house, to sew and manage servants and expenses.’ The corners of Hecate’s mouth tightened, and her forehead creased. ‘It was not a happy time in my life.’

‘Oh Hecate.’ Pippa breathed, inwardly cursing herself as she felt tears come to her eyes. She reached out for Hecate’s hand, covered it with her own and drew it onto her lap. ‘Why didn’t you say anything to me?’

Hecate’s looked at Pippa with wet eyes, her voice thick.

‘There was nothing you could have done. And you were bright and pretty and popular with your whole life ahead of you – I couldn’t bear it, if you were dragged down with me. It was the one thing that sustained me through those years, reading your columns and hearing about your travels. As if you were doing it for the both of us.’

‘I was.’ Pippa nodded vigorously. ‘Everywhere I went I thought of how much you would love it. I went to all sorts of sites I had no interest in, just to imagine what you would say about the quality of the excavation.’ Hecate let out an odd choked laugh, something Pippa couldn’t quite place in her eyes.

‘Was I ever happy with it?’

‘Rarely.’ And Hecate laughed properly, and Pippa had forgotten the sheer loveliness of the sound, how low and sweet and musical it was.

 

‘But Hecate, did you escape?’ Pippa was trembling, unable to bear the thought of her lovely Hecate bound within four walls, her world reduced to housekeeping. Hecate sighed.

‘In a manner of speaking.’ She looked at Pippa. ‘Hellibore died shortly after my twenty-ninth birthday. Alcohol consumption had poisoned his liver.’

‘Oh.’ Pippa couldn’t think of what to say. ‘I’m sorry.’ Hecate shook her head.

‘The relief was indescribable. But short lived. I was finally able to take charge of our finances, and it seemed my brother had barely been holding the bailiffs from the door. All our properties bar the London house were so bound up in mortgages that there was no hope of saving them. The apothecary business was haemorrhaging clients – I doubt my brother had met with a single one since he first took over the company. And he had so many private debts that I spent the first three months sorting through crumpled bills, trying to work out which needed to be paid most urgently.’

Pippa squeezed Hecate’s hand, and the other woman smiled thinly back at her. ‘It was a trial. But it was also a challenge. I saw off creditors, I met with lawyers and bankers and convinced shareholders that the business was salvageable. I negotiated a new loan on the security of this house. It took years, and there were so many occasions where I thought that this time for sure I would be ruined – but the debts cleared. The business thrived. And Pippa, I felt as though I could breathe again.’

‘Did you ever think of finding me?’ Pippa half-whispered, inwardly cursing her heart for coming so readily to her mouth, for making herself so vulnerable years after she had sworn never to let thoughts of Hecate Hardbroom haunt her again.

But Hecate brought up her other hand to clutch at Pippa’s own. She stammered as she spoke, looked as though just speaking was causing her effort.

‘I looked you up. I thought about visiting you every day for so long, but I was afraid.’ Hecate ducked her head, her thumb tracing up and down Pippa’s knuckles as if to soothe herself. ‘I was so afraid that you would slam the door in my face. I thought that what I had done had made me so unworthy of your affection that I could not hope for anything like your forgiveness.’

Pippa said nothing, wasn’t sure she could say anything, only brought Hecate’s hands to her lips and kissed at her knuckles, tried to communicate all her love and forgiveness in her touch. Hecate looked up, and her eyes softened as she gently disentangled one of her hands to tuck a strand of Pippa’s hair behind her ear.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other. And then that moment passed, and Hecate seemed to remember herself, removing the hand that was smoothing Pippa’s hair and folding it back in her lap just as Pippa gave a short, breathless laugh and released her hands.

‘And now you have a niece. A suffragette niece.’ Hecate rolled her eyes, her breath coming out in a huff.

‘That wretched girl…I swear to goodness, Pippa, I have been brought to the brink of financial ruin and yet have never had so much trouble in my life as I do with that child. Sometimes I believe she lives to torment me, or at least turn my head entirely grey before the age of fifty.’

Pippa giggled, well able to imagine.

‘I have to say Hiccup, in all my years as a society scribbler I never heard the name Hubble in connection with the Hardbrooms.’ Hecate winced, and she avoided Pippa’s gaze as she answered.

‘Mildred’s parents were cousins of mine who lived on the far seas, and when they died I took her in as my ward.’

Pippa frowned, but noticed how tense Hecate’s person had become in anticipation of Pippa’s reply. And whilst Pippa’s initial response was to be hurt that Hecate would think it necessary to lie to her, she reminded herself that the two of them had not known each other for a very long time.

‘I see.’ She said eventually. ‘And how have you found the experience?’

Hecate suddenly looked weary again. ‘It has been something of an uphill battle. I am convinced that I will never make a lady of the girl, with all her rough and tumble ways…’

‘But I don’t think you’d want her to be a lady.’ Pippa’s eyes were warm and soft. ‘Would you, Hiccup?’ Hecate lowered her gaze, her cheeks a little pink.

‘Perhaps not. But I do wish she would refrain from going out and smashing windows in the name of women’s rights.’

‘You aren’t a friend of the cause anymore, then?’ Pippa asked, teasingly, knowing fully that whatever her position that would not be the case. Hecate’s back straightened indignantly.

‘Certainly I am. I attend Mrs Fawcett’s meetings every week, and am an active lobbyist of the Liberal government – I simply do not believe the most effective way to go about winning the vote is by cavorting about chaining oneself to railings and being force-fed in Royal Holloway prison.’

‘It is rather fun though.’ Pippa feels a sudden thrill of mischief run through her, the kind she used to feel whenever she persuaded the straight-laced Hecate to partake in some scheme she had in college. ‘You should come to a WSPU rally. See if we can’t persuade you otherwise.’

‘Pippa I am quite convinced…’ But Pippa brought her finger to Hecate’s lips, silencing her abruptly.

‘Hecate, darling.’ She said, patiently. ‘I’m going to be quite clear on this, for the sake of avoiding misunderstanding. Mrs. Pankhurst is giving a speech at the Albert Hall tomorrow evening, and the funds go to the WSPU. If you would like to come, I would very much like for you to attend with me.’

Hecate’s blushed, until her cheeks were a rather becoming shade of pink. If Pippa was not mistaken, the duck of her head and her tentative smile were a little shy.

‘I – I suppose I could be agreeable.’

 Pippa beamed, and leant forward to plant a kiss at Hecate’s cheek. But Hecate’s head moved, and her lips ended up a lot closer to Hecate’s mouth than she had intended. She could feel every muscle in Hecate’s body stiffen and then relax against her.

‘Good.’ Pippa tapped Hecate’s nose, tried not to laugh as her blush deepened. Her heart seemed to swell and grow fuller as she allowed herself to realise that Hecate Hardbroom truly was a part of her life once more. ‘I’ll pick you up at six.’

‘You won’t stay for supper?’ Hecate asked. Pippa bit her lip.

‘I _wish_ I could Hiccup, I really do, but I have to write up this story.’ Pippa gripped her cup tighter, remembering with a sudden horror the policeman with his truncheon raised over Mildred. She tried not to think about what might have happened had Mildred not got her attention before. ‘The world needs to know the truth of what happened today.’

Hecate nodded immediately, all consternation gone from her face.

‘No, of course. But will you let me call you a cab? After all, I have you to thank for Mildred making her way home safely.’ Pippa laughed.

‘Darling, you’re very kind, but I only live ten minutes away. To think of us being neighbours all this time!’ She got to her feet. ‘But I cannot wait for tomorrow, Hecate.’ Her reward was one of Hecate’s true smiles, unabashed and lovely and all the sweeter for its rarity.

‘Goodbye Pippa. Safe journey home.’

 

* * *

 

 

Pippa waited nervously outside the house at Gordon Square, fighting the urge to pace up and down outside like an expectant suitor.

Except she supposed that was what she was – or was she? It was so strange to think of herself as courting Hecate after all this time, but then again perhaps Hecate would no longer even entertain the notion, now she was older and respectable and a businesswoman.

She tried not to recall the way Hecate’s cheeks had pinked and her eyes darkened at Pippa’s invitation. Oh, it was a terrible thing to hope this way after twenty-five years, and Pippa had thought she had quite cured herself of it. But, Pippa reflected absently, sentimentally, perhaps there was no curing yourself of some things.

Before she could think on the matter any more, the door flung open.

‘Miss Pentangle?’ Mildred Hubble half-skipped down the porch stairs, and Pippa smiled, nerves forgotten.

‘Good evening, Mildred.’ She kissed the girl’s cheek, mindful of a dark purple bruise that had formed there. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Much better, thank you.’ Mildred said, cheerfully. ‘Aunt Hecate hit the roof last night, but I said I was very sorry and I’m halfway to earning her forgiveness. Especially after she read your piece in _Votes for Women_ this morning, about how the police had behaved.’ Pippa’s smile broadened at the thought of Hecate reading her writing.

‘And your punishment?’

‘I’m to polish silver with Miss Tapioca this evening, and my cat’s been sent to the kitchens for the week.’ Pippa laughed brightly.

‘There, not so bad after all.’

‘I’ll say! I thought she would pack me off to reformatory school. You must have put her in a good mood.’ Pippa flushed, smiling a little to herself.

‘Perhaps I did. Is your aunt ready?’ Mildred’s grin turned a little sly – Pippa wondered how much she had guessed.

 ‘Almost. Come and wait for her inside – you’ll freeze to death out here.’

But just as Pippa considered taking her up on her offer, Hecate appeared at the doorway, and Pippa couldn’t prevent a gasp escaping her throat.

‘Oh Hiccup.’ She said, wonderingly. Hecate coloured beautifully.

‘You look…very nice.’ She said, stiffly. Pippa beamed, whilst Mildred rolled her eyes.

‘See you at the Monday meeting, Miss Pentangle?’ Mildred asked. Pippa blinked out of her reverie.

‘Oh – oh yes, Mildred, see you then.’ Mildred kissed her sweetly, and then bounded back up the stairs.

‘Goodnight Aunt Hecate.’

‘Goodnight, Mildred.’ Hecate descended the steps gracefully, taking Pippa’s proffered hand.

‘That’s a lovely girl you have there, Hecate.’ Pippa said playfully, taking Hecate’s arm in her own. Hecate grimaced.

‘I shall be lucky if the house is still standing when I return.’

 

They took Hecate’s carriage part of the way, and Pippa held her breath and stared straight ahead and concentrated everything she had on not being sick. But perhaps she was less discreet than she thought, because when they reached Hyde Park Hecate leant forward and had a word with the driver, and the carriage came to a halt outside Victoria gate.

‘I thought we might walk through the park.’ She said by way of explanation. ‘It’s rather pleasant at night.’

Pippa smiled weakly in reply. It was a freezing November evening and the paths were muddy and puddle-strewn, but it was so sweet of Hecate to pretend that she half forgot her travel sickness.

Hecate helped her down and took her arm in her own, and as they held up their skirts and their feet found the dimly-lit road through the park, talking and laughing and reminiscing, Pippa felt as though she had stepped through time. That they were once more undergraduates making their way along the banks of the river Cam to the meadows that lay just outside the city to debate and drink and giggle together under the light of a full moon.

Indeed, Pippa was almost sorry when the spell broke as other parties came into view, and the hall itself loomed large and magnificent ahead of them. But the air was full of the excited chatter of women and men, and Pippa reminded herself of how greatly she had been looking forward to the evening.

 

The two of them were queuing together at the box office when Pippa heard a familiar voice behind them.

‘You’re looking rather beautiful tonight, Miss Pentangle.’

Hecate at her side stiffened and bristled, but Pippa only laughed.

‘You are an incorrigible flirt, Dimity.’ She pulled her friend close for a hug. ‘And you’re looking very handsome yourself.’

Dimity was indeed looking splendid in white tie and tails, and she doffed her top hat at Hecate.

‘I’m glad you got out safely yesterday.’ Dimity said, seriously. ‘I was only released myself late last night.’

‘Are they pressing charges?’ Pippa asked, concerned. Dimity shook her head.

‘The police know they went too far. They see it as a fair exchange – they don’t face any consequences, we don’t face any consequences. Bastards.’

Just then, Dimity seemed to catch sight of Hecate for the first time. ‘And who is this?’

Pippa looped her arm through Hecate’s again, tried to reassure her with the firmness of her grip.

‘This is a very dear old friend of mine: Hecate Hardbroom.’

Dimity’s eyes widened and then narrowed. Remembering all she had told her friend about Hecate, Pippa cut in hastily. ‘All water under the bridge, Dimity, trust me.’

‘Alright then.’ Dimity said, a little reluctantly. She stuck out her hand for Hecate to shake. ‘Dimity Drill. I must say Miss Hardbroom, your reputation precedes you.’

‘Does it indeed?’ Hecate said coolly, taking Dimity’s extended hand, but glancing at Pippa a little nervously as she did.

‘It does. I inspected one of your factories last week, and was thoroughly satisfied by the wages and conditions. It’s not many factory-owners that are so conscientious about their workers, especially the women.’ Hecate looked startled, but nonetheless pleased.

‘You are a reformist, then?’

‘I’m more than that.’ Dimity said proudly. ‘I’m an inspector for Her Majesty’s Factory Inspectorate. I’ve been all over England and Wales sizing up working conditions, have three men working under me, and have written more angry letters to capitalists than I can count. And I love it.’

‘Have you anyone with you tonight, Dimity?’ Pippa asked. Dimity’s face took on a wistful quality.

‘Miss Marigold Mould.’ She nodded at where a dark-haired woman was gazing dreamily in the direction of Kensington gardens. ‘She’s an art teacher, and a socialist, and she has captured my heart entirely.’

‘Finally found someone to settle down with?’ Pippa asked, eyes dancing. Dimity grimaced.

‘Hardly. Still pining after some awful blonde from her past – I keep telling her it’s a foreign country, no point looking for anything there.’

She gave a sigh. ‘Having said that, the two of you seem very happy.’ She nodded at Hecate, expression suddenly serious. ‘You take good care of her, understand?’

Hecate’s mouth opened and closed, before she straightened her back and nodded.

‘Understood.’ Dimity clapped her on the back.

‘Capital. Well, I must be off, we need to find our seats. Enjoy the evening, you two.’ And with that, Dimity put on her hat and strolled off into the night with a parting wink. 

Pippa giggled a little at the expression on Hecate’s face.

‘She’s the dearest person in the world.’ She told Hecate. ‘But rather a force of nature, and very protective of me.’ Hecate swallowed, and looked uncomfortable, and Pippa could tell that Dimity’s reaction to her name was playing across her mind.

‘Darling, she only wants to see that I shan’t be hurt.’ Pippa tried to make her voice soothing, and she turned so that she could rub her free hand up and down Hecate’s arm.

‘Because I did hurt you.’ Hecate’s voice was brittle, and she looked away from Pippa, shoulders stiffening. But Pippa reached up to tilt her chin until Hecate was looking at her once more.

‘Only by leaving.’ She said, seriously, trying to make Hecate understand. ‘Only by leaving, Hiccup.’ And Hecate met her eyes and nodded, exhaling shakily. Pippa smiled warmly back at her, kissed her cheek.

‘Come on. Dimity is right, we should find our seats.’

 

Before the speech itself there were a series of poetry and prose readings, (as there were wont to be at feminist gatherings, Pippa whispered to Hecate, who nodded in agreement.) But in time, Mrs. Pankhurst climbed on to the stage to a thunder of applause and stamping.

 ‘There is something governments care for far more than human life, and that is security of property.’

 Mrs Pankhurst weaved her spell around the hall, her voice rising and falling with emotion, her use of statistics clean and precise without ever being overwhelming. If Pippa had been less distracted, she would have been one of those women leaning forward precariously in her seat, open mouthed at the sheer eloquence of their leader, at the masterful construction of her sentences and rhetoric.

 But Pippa only had eyes for Hecate. Hecate who had not taken her eyes off the stage, who nodded after a particularly incisive remark regarding taxation. Who stood with the rest of the crowd to applaud as Mrs Pankhurst sent them back out into the night ordering them to rise up against their oppressors.

 

Hecate was quiet and pensive on the journey back, her steps slow as they ambled through Hyde Park, Pippa wrapping her coat tighter around her and trying not to shiver in the cold November air. She had her arm in Hecate’s, and could feel how cold her friend’s hand was even through her glove.

‘What are you thinking?’ She asked Hecate, quietly. Hecate gave a small smile in reply.

‘Well, you won’t have me throwing stones at shop windows just yet.’

‘But you agree with her?’ Hecate nodded, looking as though she was struggling with herself.

‘What she said about revolution, about how it is the only possibility when an entire system is weighted against a community…I’m not entirely sure I agree with it, but I understood.’ Her grip on Pippa tightened. ‘Too often women are forced into a position that affords them no agency, with every means of extricating themselves plucked from their hands. Perhaps that will change if we are able to vote, but we must first acknowledge it if we are to change it.’

Pippa didn’t reply, only rested her head on Hecate’s shoulder. She thought Hecate must be referring to herself, but Hecate was still tense, still on the cusp of revealing something to Pippa.

 So Pippa walked, and waited, and looked up at her friend, until eventually Hecate spoke again.

 ‘A year or so after Hellibore’s death, once I had made some sort of order out of his personal finances, I came across a series of transactions I could make neither head nor tail of. Further investigation revealed that it was the payment of rent for some rooms in Manchester. I went to investigate…and I found a woman living there. With her baby daughter.’ Pippa frowned, and then gasped.

‘Mildred?’

Hecate nodded, shivering a little. ‘I gathered things had gotten pretty bad, in the year since my brother’s death. Mildred’s mother Julie – I daresay you would like her, she’s a rather enterprising woman – had done her best to take in typing and washing, and fabricated a tale of a husband killed in a factory accident, but they were desperate by the time I arrived. Had I come any later…’ Hecate trailed off. ‘I sold what parts of the estate in Hampshire Hellibore had not yet mortgaged and used the money to keep the two of them as best I could. And then when Mildred was ten and the last of our debts paid off, I adopted her. Found a job for her mother at a girls’ boarding school and brought Mildred to live with me here.’

They walked in silence for a while, as Pippa digested this latest piece of information. Eventually she said, quietly.

‘Mildred must miss her mother terribly.’ Hecate’s brow creased.

‘She comes to visit during the school holidays – and Julie agrees that Mildred deserves an education and she deserves to be able to work, neither of which would be possible if the truth were to come out.’

‘And so you tell everyone what you told me, I presume?’ Hecate looked apologetically at Pippa.

‘Forgive me, Pipsqueak, I shouldn't have lied to you – but I have been so afraid of discovery for so long.’

Pippa frowned, but relaxed against Hecate, leaning her head on her shoulder again. To her surprise, Hecate brought her own arm slowly around her waist, until they were walking hip to hip.

‘Don’t worry, I understand.’ Pippa said eventually. ‘Of course I understand. But honestly Hiccup, I can’t believe you thought I would judge. When you think of what we used to get up to…’ Her voice petered out, and she looked up again. In the dark, Hecate’s expression was barely discernible.

‘We were very young.’ But it wasn’t phrased as a brush-off. It was phrased as a question. Pippa’s mouth was dry.

‘We weren’t so very young.’ There was a pause, and for a moment Pippa thought that the earth had stopped moving.

‘No.’ Hecate said in a half-whisper. ‘Not so very young.’ Pippa could feel Hecate’s breathing quicken, felt her own heart beat and flutter in her chest.

‘Hecate.’ Said Pippa, seriously. ‘Look at me.’ Hecate turned her head downward, a questioning look in her gaze as she met Pippa’s eyes. But as soon as she saw Pippa’s face that look fell away. Her eyes grew large and soft, her lips parting slightly.

‘Pippa.’ She whispered. Slowly, deliberately, Pippa lowered her hands and removed Hecate’s glove, peeling it off her fingers until she was holding Hecate’s bare hand in her own, twining their fingers together.

As if answering a question, Hecate brought her other hand to cup Pippa’s cheek, her thumb stroking up and down her cheekbone. Pippa’s lips turned ever so slightly upward, and she got up on her tiptoes, leant forward and pressed her mouth to Hecate’s.

Hecate’s lips were soft and trembling like a butterfly’s wing, and cold to the touch, but she moved them against Pippa’s, her hand coming round and finding Pippa’s scalp, fingers nestling into her hair. Pippa whimpered a little and stepped closer, brought an arm around Hecate’s waist and deepened the kiss, heart thrumming at their sudden closeness, at the feeling of Hecate moulded against herself. Hecate gave a small, breathless moan against her lips, leaning into Pippa as if she hoped to fall all the way forward.

Eventually Hecate slowed and stopped. She looked down at their hands, still woven together, and then turned her gaze upwards to Pippa with wide, entreating eyes. ‘Pippa, I – since I was a girl I’ve wanted to tell you…’ She stammered a little, and Pippa gripped tighter at her hand. ‘Since I first met you, Pipsqueak…’

‘For me as well.’ Pippa told her, voice thick with tears. ‘It took me so long to work out what I was, Hecate, because for so long there was only you. My Hecate, my other half. My love.’

‘Your love.’ Hecate breathed.

Still unsteady, she brought their joined hands upwards, placed them on her own heart until Pippa could feel it thumping steadily beneath her spread palm.

She found herself almost wanting to laugh through her weeping, at the sheer ridiculousness of Hecate Hardbroom under the light of a full moon telling Pippa in as many words as she was able that she loved her.

‘You mean it?’ She asked, voice cracking with emotion. ‘You really mean it?’ Hecate’s answering smile broke across her face like the dawn.

‘I’ve never meant anything more.’ And Pippa’s sobs melted in her throat as she threw her arms around Hecate and kissed her and kissed her until she was dizzy with it, until Hecate seemed like the only solid, real thing in the world.

 

* * *

 

_June, 1911_

 

The streets were packed, bursting to the seams with elderly gentlewomen and East End seamstresses and Welsh socialists and factory girls and students from local colleges, all linking arms and waving banners and shouting at policemen scowling nearby. It was scarcely warm for a June day, but the sun had chosen to beat brightly down, and there was a euphoric mood about the riot of purple, green and white that had fallen on Westminster. For once almost everyone had their sashes, and some of the local girls had come to hand out large bouquets of white flowers to the marchers.

 Pippa, running late once again, weaved her way in and out of carefully organised rows, eyes scouring the ranks of assembled women.

‘Pippa!’ Pippa caught sight of Mildred waving frantically at her. With a relieved smile, Pippa squeezed herself past a group of Indian suffragettes, past the Bolton Workers’ League, and to where Mildred and her friends were holding their own placards.

‘Hello Millie.’ She pulled the girl into a one armed hug. ‘Where’s your aunt?’

‘The row behind – and look who’s with her!’ Pippa turned around – Hecate was a couple of rows behind, arguing with a curly haired woman with paint-stained fingertips.

‘Hecate, Julie!’ Pippa called, and both women stopped their squabbling to turn and smile at her. Grinning, Pippa made her way towards them.

‘Julie Hubble, what on earth are you doing here?’

‘The girls have a half holiday tomorrow.’ Julie explained, pulling Pippa into a tight hug. ‘I got the four o’clock train. Couldn’t miss this.’

‘Indeed.’ Hecate said, leaning forward to kiss Pippa chastely on the cheek. ‘One for the history books. Forty thousand marching, the last I heard.’

‘And seven miles long at the last count.’ Dimity Drill emerged from the crowd, handing them their sashes. ‘Flora’s on horseback at the front. She looks like a warrior queen. Room on this row?’ Pippa did a quick headcount.

‘Just about, if Mildred stays with her friends. Have you met Julie, Dimity?’ Dimity turned to where Julie was smiling, shyly. Dimity held out her hand.

‘Dimity Drill. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

‘Julie Hubble.’ Julie took it, eyes never leaving Dimity’s face. ‘The pleasure’s all mine.’

Satisfied with her work, Pippa ducked past them until she was by Hecate’s side, watching with enjoyment as Dimity chuckled at some remark of Julie’s.

‘Told you they would work.’ Pippa said smugly to Hecate, who rolled her eyes.

‘I suppose it makes sense that the two most insufferable women in my life would find each other eventually.’ She grumbled. Pippa elbowed her in the ribs.

‘I thought I was the most insufferable woman in your life.’ She said in mock-anger. Hecate looked down at her fondly

‘Oh you are. Head and shoulders above the rest.’

‘Well so long as that’s settled.’ Pippa said contentedly, slipping her hand into Hecate’s. ‘Let’s have Dimity back for drinks after the rally. There’s a group going on to a pub, but I think I’d rather go home.’

‘Home.’ Hecate echoed, and Pippa knew that it must give her the same thrill to say. _Their_ home. ‘Well, I suppose I could be agreeable.’

‘And who knows.’ Pippa continued, cheerfully. ‘Perhaps Mildred could join us for her first sip of champagne.’

Hecate turned to her in outrage, but her indignant reply was lost beneath the sound of cornets and trumpets triumphantly sounding the first few bars of _The March of the Women_.

Mildred turned around and grinned happily at Pippa, and Pippa remembered the first time she had seen Mildred, with her hair still in pigtails and her boundless enthusiasm for the cause – and for singing its anthems. She and Hecate were still often treated to stirring renditions of suffrage hymns early in the morning whilst Mildred was getting ready for school.

‘Looks like things are moving forward, Hiccup.’ Pippa murmured, and positioned herself so that she had her right arm linked with Hecate and her left linked with Julie, who laughed, and grabbed Dimity’s hand, and whispered in Pippa’s ear that she was a _terrible_ influence.

‘Right then, ladies.’ Pippa said, cheerfully. ‘Up with your voice.’

**Author's Note:**

> Everything written about feminist poetry and singing was done with the utmost love
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed! x


End file.
